


Safety in numbers

by thereisalwaysanand



Category: MCU, Marvel
Genre: Cuddling, M/M, PTSD, friends - Freeform, friends that care for eachother, less than lovers, more than friends
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-08
Updated: 2016-05-17
Packaged: 2018-06-07 02:01:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6780817
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thereisalwaysanand/pseuds/thereisalwaysanand
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bucky and Sam help Eachother cope</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. On your left

"Real talk" Sam says to Bucky from across the table. Bucky is looking out the vast window on to the African forest beyond. He doesn't outwardly Acknowledge Sam, but Sam has gotten used to it. "Do you think Steve actually likes Sharon?"

Bucky snorts. "The only time I've ever seen Steve have feelings for a girl was Peggy Carter."

A man walks into the Resturant. Bucky turns his head to give him the once over. "On your 4, male, medium build. Unarmed. We could take him out no problem."

Sam nods, and then picks up the conversation. "So do you think he's just trying to find closure over Peggy?" 

Buck runs a hand through his hair. "I think that Steve is trying to do what he feels is right. Sharon helped us out a lot, you know? I think he feels he owes her." 

Sam absently scans the crowd. "Lady to your left has a knife."

Bucky raises an eyebrow. "So do I. You could distract her while I take her knife. Then we could both have knives." 

"What about you Barnes, you ever think about trying to...I don't know... Hook up with someone." Sam says, as he plays with his straw.

Bucky shrugs. "Last time I remember kissing anyone was like 20 years ago. I've had a lot on my plate, you know?" He meets Sam's gaze. "You?" 

"I was engaged once. She left me. I think she didn't know how to handle the ptsd." Sam speaks with ease, but you can see the residual hurt in his eyes. 

"I've lived a long time. Right now I guess I'm just looking for... A friend. Someone to share the battle with." Bucky says, turning to look out the window again. "Stevie was always my everything. But times change." 

Silence falls over the pair for a minute. Sam listens to the sounds of the Resturant, the familiar noise of people. Right now there's no danger. Just Bucky and Sam. Having lunch. 

"You know, I could never do this with Steve." Sam says. 

"Hm? Do what?" Buck hums back at him.

"Play this game. The best way to get out of a hypothetical situation. Steve never really noticed that much if we weren't in active danger." Sam plays with his hands. "I like having someone to share that part of me with." 

Bucky smiles at Sam. "Me too." 

They finish their meals, figure out how they would disarm the staff, and Bucky makes Sam tip more than he wants. (People work hard for us, man) 

On the way home, in the back of a car (T'challa insists on giving them personal drivers so they don't get lost) Sam finds his hand laced into bucky's, and a subtle kind of peace washes over him. The battlefield is a lot less lonely when you share it with someone.


	2. White Sheets, Bright Lights

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was going to make this a series of small ficlets but then just decided to fuck it and make it a multi chapter. Title from is there somewhere by Halsey.

"They say that in your dreams, you are your truest you. Dailey inhibitions are gone, and your emotions are left unchecked. Sometimes in dreams your brain can admit things that you yourself are not ready to see. Maybe that's why we are afraid to follow our dreams." Bucky rambles. His eyes are closed as he slouches in the arm chair in Sam's hotel room. 

Sam lies on the bed next to him, it's late and they've been drinking. It's the mix of drunk and tired that makes it impossible for you to be anything but real. "Do you dream in cryo?" Sam asked, kind of absently. 

Bucky half shrugs. "It's like I want to believe that I did, but I think it was just a coping thing. To make it easier." 

Sam is already asleep before Bucky finishes talking. 

 

Sam wakes up with bucky's arm thrown over his middle, Bucky still asleep, looking like the pictures of him in 1941, a completely different man from the feared soldier they made him. Sam has to blink a few times before he is convinced he's not still dreaming.

They get breakfast together, talk about how Steve is doing. Argue about the best way to escape the coffee shop if they needed to. They've developed a routine here in such a short time. They hold hands a lot. Part of him thinks it's a little strange, but mostly Sam is a afraid to admit how much he likes it. Bucky makes him feel safer than he ever has, and he wonders if Bucky feels the same. 

That night, he wakes up in a cold sweat, nightmares of Rhodey falling from the sky. Wait no it's Riley. No, it's Rhodes. It's both, it's neither, it's him. 

Sam jumps when his mind catches up with his body. He's staring at bucky's door, watching his hand knock. Bucky answers, hair mussed and sleep still in his eyes. "Sam?" 

"I..." He stutters. 

Bucky reaches for his hand, and pulls him in to the room, leading him to bed. Bucky is asleep the second his head hits the pillow. Sam curls next to him, and let's the warmth of the other mans body lull him to sleep. 

And so it goes for the next week, wrapped around eachother in the night, sheets crumpled around their feet. It's kind of crazy but it's perfect. Tgeir hearts find themselves in sync, breathing matched, at peace with the world. Neither one of them has another nightmare.


	3. Seams

Sam can't help but smile at Bucky. All the damn time. He smiles at this confused puppy trying to keep up. He smiles when Bucky is just so badass you can't ignore it. He smiles when Bucky finds a new memory and the sun shines from his goddamn face. 

Right now, he's smiling because Bucky has just learned that Sam has scars. Sam waltzed out of the shower, towel wrapped around his hips, to find Bucky open mouthed, toothbrush half falling from his lips. "Where'd you get that scar?" He asks, toothpaste foaming at the edges of his mouth. 

"dont tell me you went 95 years without seeing scars on another man." Sam deadpans 

Bucky spits the white paste into the sink. It shouldn't be suggestive, but it gives Sam an idea that gives him the smallest shiver. 

"It just never occurred to me that you had that many. You've told me war stories I just," Bucky sighs. "It makes it so much more real to be able to see it. Ya know?" 

Sam cocks his head as he leans against the edge of the sink, barely a foot away from buck. "Which scar you asking about?" 

Bucky reaches out and touches a soft line of discoloration on Sam's collar bone. Blue eyes flicker up to Sam's. 

Sam lets out a little laugh. "That's a different kind of war story. When I was 15 I thought I was the sssshit." Sam emphasizes the word with a nod of his head. "A couple buddies of mine, we played football together. They were bigger than me, and I played a little reckless. One guy tackled me, I hit the ground so hard, broke my clavicle." 

Bucky laughs. "You and Steve..." 

"Would have gotten along great, I've heard." Sam finishes. 

"What about this one?" Bucky asks, eyeing a jagged patch of skin above Sam's hip bone. 

"Knife wound. I can't really remember how it happened. I didn't notice until I was back at base. The girl who stitched me up didn't do the best job and it healed a little weird."

Bucky nods and is silent for a minute, still eying the scar. Sam takes this as his queue to head out to the bedroom. He pauses, briefly, wondering if he should be modest with Bucky or if they were past that. He decides to screw it and drops the towel before even getting out pants to wear. 

Bucky comes up behind him. Brushes a scar right above his ass, giving Sam chills. "What about this one?" 

"What, do you want to know the story of every scar on my whole damn body?" Sam says, his tone light and playful. He turns his head, but not his body. Embarrassment and shame are creeping in. 

"Yea." Says Bucky. 

Sam puts on a pair of boxers and lays on the bed, Bucky following like his shadow. When he lays on his back, Bucky lays on his side next to him, eyes roaming, taking him in, but doesn't say anything. He just waits, patiently, for Sam to start talking. 

So Sam tells Bucky the story of every scar and bump and bruise on his body and they laugh and they even cry a little. But mostly they smile. It's a pretty good way to spend their night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm super tired writing this I just got so caught up in this vision of Bucky going over every inch of Sam looking for scars and I just had to get it out.


End file.
